Hammering In My Head
by The March Hatter
Summary: When the boys return to Iraq for a mission, it brings back some unpleasent memories for Face. Murdock tries to help him the best way he knows how. Based off an A-team Kink Prompt. M/F Murdock/Face


Fandom: A-Team

Pairing: Murdock/Face

Summary: When the boys return to Iraq for a mission, it brings back some unpleasent memories for Face. Murdock tries to help him the best way he knows how. Based off an A-team Kink Prompt.

Warnings: Cuddling, Fluff, Slash, brief gore, SMUT (first time writing it!), Top!Murdock and Bottom!Face, and virtually non existant plot

* * *

The moment Face got off the plane, he knew what kind of week it was going to be. Too many memories came slamming back into his head at once for it to be anything other than difficult. He could tell just by looking at the others, that they felt pretty much the same way he did.

Hannibal had been smoking even more than usual lately, polishing his guns a little too often and with a little too much vigor to be anything but on edge. BA had been snapping at anyone and every one he came in to contact with, and Murdock… well Murdock had been acting . . . _sane_. It was rather unsettling actually.

Three minutes back in Iraq and he was already tired of it. After all, he'd gotten more than enough of it when he'd been with the Army, and nothing much had really changed since then. Aside from the whole 'with the Army' part that is. The heat and the sand were the same as they had ever been, a harsh constant in a land constantly sculpted and reshaped by the ever waging war taking place there. Between the two of them his skin had soon became red and raw, and he could imagine he looked anything but the charming pretty boy he was supposed to be.

Somehow though, he found a modicum of comfort in it. As long as he could focus on the annoyance of the sun and the sand and the blisters on his face and feet, he could block out that looming feeling of unease that constantly followed him out here.

_**.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.**_

Later that week, when all was said and done (and more importantly, everyone had been paid) everyone was pretty satisfied. It had all gone perfectly, no one had gotten hurt and they'd only had to drug BA once, which he was happy for. Or at least less angry about.

All in all it had been an ideal mission.

That having been said Face had never been so happy to be done with a job in his life. This place held too many memories of things gone wrong for him to be comfortable here; there were shadows every which way he turned, no matter how white-hot and blinding the sun was here.

Murdock was babbling happily away beside him, about nothing and everything all at once, their hands swinging and clasped together between them as they made their way back to their adjoining rooms. They each had their own. Though, at this point in their relationship, that was really just more of a pretense than anything else. Though they usually started separately most nights, somehow, someone would always end up in the other's room. But since neither party really minded it no one bothered to question the practice much.

Tonight though . . . Tonight Face was just so _exhausted_. He didn't really know if he could muster up the energy to be around another person. Even if that person was the one he adored more than anyone else in the world.

When, soon enough, they reached their destination Face was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the other man's voice.

"You gonna be okay all alone, Faceman?" There was something in Murdock's tone that made him look up, an uncommonly serious note that made it difficult to brush off the question, as he normally would have. They locked gazes for a few moments before the con-man smiled at the pilot. It was small, and it was tired, and nowhere near as bright as his usual charming grin, but it was there and it was sincere.

"I'll be fine Murdock." The shorter man looked doubtful and hesitated at his door, so he forced out a quick laugh and gave him a playful nudge. "Stop worrying HM. And get some sleep, You look terrible."

"Flatterer." And he didn't have to fake the laugh anymore as Murdock bat his eyelashes shamelessly, adopting his best Scarlet O'Hara drawl and holding out a hand for the Lt. Obligingly Face grasped it in his own, bending down slightly to kiss it as he bade him goodnight, turning to head to his own room, right next door.

When the pilot, however, kept a firm hold on Face's hand, he turned back, raising his eyebrow questioningly at the captain, who merely offered him a smile and a reassuring squeeze before letting go and disappearing behind the door to his room.

It was no wonder really, that he loved Murdock so damn much.

As he made his way into his room he began to wish he _had_ invited Murdock to spend the night. It was too quiet with out his constant babbling, and it gave him too much time to think.

Wearily he collapsed on top of his rumpled bed, exhausted and overwhelmed. He hated being back here, so close to the horrors of the army. He had loved being a soldier, but there were some things in his time served he wished he could just forget.

In the distance he could hear the sounds of ever present war being waged, and he shut his eyes against it, in an attempt to block out everything, past and present.

_**.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.**_

Opening them again he gazed up at the clouds, and tried to shield his eyes from the too-bright sun. He could hear the sounds of the other people in the safe house- God he hated guard duty. Nothing to do, No one to talk to, just him standing around under the hot sun waiting for his shift to end.

Hannibal must be punishing him for something. He hadn't even allowed BA or Murdock to accompany him this time. It was so boring out h-

Face frowned. What the hell was that sound? He looked around, suddenly on guard, as the faint whistling grew louder and louder, becoming almost a roar. His eyes widened, he knew that sound. _Fuck_.

He tired to shout out a warning to those inside, but before he could there was a blinding flash and an earsplitting boom, and suddenly he was being propelled forward. He crashed- _hard_- a few seconds later, then everything went black.

_**.,.,**_

He had no idea how long he'd been out, only that when he awoke it was to utter chaos.

His ears still ringing from the explosion, he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears. He tried to look around to gauge the damage but his vision was mostly obscured by smoke and bits of rubble, and he cough harshly as he inhaled small amounts of both in to his lungs. As he crawled his way out from under bits of crumbled building and collapsed into the street on all fours, he was finally able to get a better look at the scene of the explosion- He could barely hold back the urge to wretch.

All around him was carnage. The area was littered with the remains of those closest to the blast as it had gone off. Dismembered limbs and chunks of flesh from people who had literally been blown to bits lay scattered across what was left of the safe house- Which had, apparently, not been safe enough. It was an image to grotesque for him to fully comprehend, piles of timber and chunks of masonry surrounded him, some dyed red and smeared with gore like the walls of a slaughter house.

The piercing shriek in his ears was beginning to fade away, only to be replaced with the moans of the wounded and dying. People- soldiers and civilians alike- crying, praying, _begging_ for help, all of it rising together and twisting into the ugly, discordant jangle of suffering.

He tried to focus, tried to push the horror away by taking a deep breath, only to lose his battle with the bile rising in his throat.

More than anything else now, he was aware of the smell- singed hair and burned flesh and so much blood, all of it festering under the heat from the explosion and the desert sun. Like a rotting corpse being baked in an oven. It was the single most disgusting thing he'd ever experienced, it was death and horror and complete devastation. An actual living hell. As his stomach heaved and his throat burned from the acid lining mixed in with his sick, he tried desperately to shield his nose- only to end up covering himself in his own vomit.

Once that was done he realized that he had to move, had to try and help any survivors he could find. It was his job as a soldier. Taking another deep breath- through his mouth this time- he tried to get up, but fell down again at the shattering agony in his ribs. Right away he could tell he had broken at least two of them, if not more, and he was lucky that none of them had gone into his lungs. On top of that his shoulder was jutting out oddly. Dislocated, he assumed. He tried to move it and gasped in pain. He fell to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. Definitely dislocated then. And from the hazy way the air seemed to be swimming in front of him, he should probably add concussion to his list of injuries.

God, this was so _fucked_. The light around the edges of his vision was growing dim, and he was finding it harder to stay awake. He knew it probably wasn't a good idea to fall asleep here, in the middle of this, literal, war zone but he didn't think he could help it much longer. His eyes were getting so . . .heavy, maybe if he just closed them for a little bit . . .

_**.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.**_

"Face! God Facey please _wake up_!"

With a gasp Templeton was suddenly catapulted back into the waking world, thrashing and kicking in an attempt to fight off whatever nightmare from his memories may have followed him back into reality.

His flailing fists connected with something solid in his daze, something that let out an alarmed squeal and tried to shield itself, before calling his name. "Face! Face, stop it it's me!"

Snapping back to himself, the con-man quickly withdrew his fists when he realized it was Murdock pleading with him.

"Oh, God Murdock! I'm so sorry! Are you ok? What are you doing in here?"

The shorter man looked so relieved that face was back to his senses, that the brunette felt instantly guilty for even daring to _think_ that Murdock would be attacking him, half-conscious or not.

"Well, I suppose I just got a lil' lonely is all Faceman. I came in here to see if you maybe wanted to snuggle a little and you were flailing around on the bed like a coupla cats in a sack. I thought you were havin' some kind of panic attack. I didn't mean to shake you so hard, I was just worried."

Face laughed a little to put Murdock at ease, "It was nothing to worry about HM, just a bad dream"

"Oh" he still didn't look completely sure. "What was it about?"

That was the question he'd been dreading. If he was lucky he could just play it off, make light of it, and hopefully distract him with something else.

"You know, I can't even really remember anymore. I guess it must not have been very important, eh?" another laugh, less real than before. "But I am glad you came in. I think some snuggling might be just what the doctor ordered." He went to put an arm around the pilot, only to have him duck away at the last second.

"Face . . . That's a lie if I ever heard one. And trust me I have." He looked at him hard. "What was it really about? And no tryin' to distract me this time. It won't work."

Damn it. He had that determined look in his eyes again. He'd have to tell him. He'd never get a moments peace until he did.

Face sighed heavily, "You remember that Safe house that was blown up? About a month or two before Sosa showed back up, and that whole mess with Pike and the plates started?"

Murdock stared at him hard. "You mean the one where you got blown to kingdom come and nearly had your ribcage smashed in?" Face nodded.

"Shoot. Of course I do! You had me; well all of us, scared for days, thinking you weren't gonna make it." He gently cupped Face's hands in his own a searching look in his brown eyes. "Is that what you've been thinking about the past week? Why you've been so distracted? Is that what that," he gesticulated to face's bed, sheets rumpled from his tossing and turning, "Was about?"

Face nodded again, blinking hard to keep back tears. He couldn't cry in front of Murdock, didn't want him to have to deal with how messed up he was in his emotions.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened? Talk it out a little?" He shook his head vehemently. Why did Murdock have to be so damn understanding? So damn good hearted all the time? Surely he didn't need face's emotional baggage on top of his own?

"You can't just let this eat away at you Temp." Not Face-man, or Facey-boy, or Even just Face. Murdock was trying to talk to him with out any walls- no crazy man hijinks or charming bullshitery between them. "Stuff like this. It makes you go crazy inside." There was no joking in his tone, just a profound sort of sadness and understanding as he looked at him.

"It's okay to be weak every now and then Temp, or angry, or sad. It keeps you sane. Strange as that may sound, coming from me."

Eyes down cast, Face gulped, swallowing back the waves of grief threatening to break inside of him, before addressing him "Murdock, I- I just…"

"It's _okay_." Murdock repeated, tilting his chin up and looking deep into his eyes.

And suddenly he couldn't stop him self. A dam seemed to break somewhere inside of him and the floods just came pouring out. He threw himself into Murdock's arms, and buried his face into his chest sobbing all the while.

Gradually he was able to spell out the story for the man holding him, recount the horrors he had seen that day. Told him how being back here just made it all swim to the surface again like some sort of undersea beast, feeding on the festering corpses hidden in his closet. Still too fresh in his mind to be skeletons.

Murdock rocked him gently back and forth as his sobs subsided, kissing his forehead gently. He looked up at the man he loved and suddenly felt better and more terrible than he ever had in his life.

Here was this man- this crazy, wild utterly wonderful man- with so many terrible shadows in his past, so many troubles of his own, that being back here must be triggering all kinds of traumatic memories for him too, things no doubt, much worse than anything he'd ever been through. After all, hadn't he been a solider too? But instead of offering his BestFriendLoverSoulmate any sort of solace, he was, instead, curled up in his arms, being comforted himself- like some sort of utterly selfish, sniveling, little child.

It occurred to him then, that there was something he could do for Murdock, and for himself too. He looked up into the warm brown of those eyes he loved so much and said "Make love to me."

_**.L.E.M.O.N .W.A.R.N.I.N.G.**_

Murdock was shocked into momentary silence by the request, seemingly out of the blue, before: "Facey, I- I don't know. You were pretty shaken up just a couple seconds ago. I don't think I should. And you should probably try to get to sleep. 'Else you'll end up just as crazy as me one of these days."

"Murdock . . . Please. I need this. We both do." He felt so much love and gratitude when the pilot nodded that he leaned over and kissed him. After a few moments Murdock deepened the kiss, using his tongue to explore every single, wonderful inch of the other's mouth, finally stopping only to suck lightly on his tongue. Face moaned- he was _very_ good at that.

He could feel Murdock's hands sliding down his shoulders, over his hips and under his shirt. He gasped into the captain's mouth as they ghosted over each of his nipples in kind, giving Murdock the opportunity to break the kiss and start placing feather light ones over the junction between his neck and shoulder. It was at this point that Face decided they had way too many clothes on, so he quickly removed both of their shirts, before setting to work on the pants next.

He let out a breathless little laugh as he saw Murdock's boxers were ordained with little images of woody the woodpecker. "How very fitting of you HM." It was almost a shame he'd have to take them off. Almost.

"Kind of you to say, Templeton." The pilot's voice had become low and gravely with arousal, and the way it made his name sound from off those lips was purely criminal.

"Murdock, I-" A gasp, turned into a breathy moan as Murdock laid a trail of kisses across his body doing a lap around each soft, pink nipple with his wicked, wicked tongue. "Oh, God, Murdock. I need you. Now"

"Take it easy Facey-Boy; I know just what you need." Face loved this side of Murdock, the confidant, so in-charge side that only came out when they were together in bed- only when they were like this. Another gasp as the pilot nibbled softly at his ear. God, he was such a tease when he wanted to be.

"Murdock! Please . . ." finally he consented, as painfully hard as he was, he didn't have to think about it that much.

Reaching into the bedside table where Face always kept it, he pulled out the small tube of lubricant that he was searching for and liberally applied it to his fingers.

"Relax, Face. Relax." Leaning over the prone Lt. he carefully inserted a finger into his entrance, stretching him diligently before adding a second and, after some time, a third.

The other man was practically writhing beneath him, panting and moaning, ready for the next step. God this was so different from their normal lovemaking, which was wild and passionate and hasty, wherever they could get away with it. But this- Murdock was being so careful with him, like he was the most precious thing in the entire world, it was sweet and flattering and -god- still so _good_.

"Are you ready for me Temp?"

The answer was yes, yes, a thousand times _yes,_ but all he could manage to articulate at that moment was a dazed nod and another groan of pleasure. He could feel Murdock remove his fingers before positioning himself and suddenly the man he loved was inside of him and it felt so right, so completely amazingly right.

"Murdock!" he gasped as the pilot carefully buried him self up to the hilt, hitting _that_ spot, deep inside of him. Slowly, and with so much tenderness it was nearly heart breaking, he continued, in and out, in and out with increasing intensity, until both of them were right on the edge. Gently, Murdock wrapped a hand around Face's member, moving it in time with his thrusts. The feeling of the pilot's well calloused hand stroking him sent Face over the edge and he cried out Murdock's name again as he climaxed, Causing his lover to do the same mere moments afterward.

_**E.N.D O.F L.E.M.O.N**_

In the heat of the afterglow they snuggled. Pilot and con-man both fully sated and feeling, for all the world, like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. Grabbing a few tissues off the night stand Face cleaned them both off before chucking them into the waste basket, all the while being hugged tightly around the middle by his favorite mental patient and lover.

Stealing a quick kiss he pillowed his head on the other's shoulder and pulled the covers up around them, already beginning to feel the pull of sleep heavy on his eyelids. Before drifting off he managed to catch the mumbled "Love you Face-man." from the warm prescience next to him, and he smiled.

"Love you too, HM" He doubted he would be having any more problems over his past here. At least, as long as he had Murdock to keep him safe, and warm and loved.

_-fin.-_

* * *

*Hides in shame* good lord that was sappy . . . forgive the cliché-d-ness. I'm a hopeless cheeseball. And I know, I know, the characters were terribly OoC, and the plot sorta . . . failed to exist entirely. Heh.

Feel free to throw rocks if you must. All I ask is that you don't aim for any vital organs.

Coincidentally this was also my First time writing a sex scene. So… yeah. There's that. And I tried to keep the 'mission' (from both the memory and the beginning of the story) pretty vague because honestly, I have no idea how anything works over there. Feel free to tell me if anything came across as odd though.


End file.
